Forever
by AngelsInTheMist
Summary: Civilization has never stood the test of time, especially not Voldemort


Forever

There comes a time in the world, where all that was once build proudly and proclaimed with last a thousand years, crumbles under the agony of Time. A time in the world where an idea, shining bright with the promise of a dream come true, that one could forge anything they so desire with the power of mind and will. Yet Time stands true, it's golden hue encompassing all that ever existed and will exist.

Tom Riddle sought not to conquer the spirits and minds of his fellow men and women, he didn't obliterate Ancient Families to purge the world of their power, nor did he seek to build a magical empire based upon his rule. Tom Riddle sought to conquer _Time_, the greatest challenge there was, and yet he played the game yet oh so well.

Tom Riddle understood his destiny when he was eleven, there he sat, perched up on top of the stool in the Great Hall, under the eyes of many students and teachers. He gingerly placed the hat on his head and waited, hoping to not look as much of a fool as he thought he did. His thought train was shattered when a toneless voice spoke in his head, "_I know not what you seek but what you are." _Tom was about to respond when his vision flashed white and images spun through his head, like a gymnast twirling through their routines. Tom saw himself conquer Britain, he saw himself sitting upon the headmaster's table flanked by ethereal guards clothed in shadows. Tom witnessed himself force a father to murder his daughter and sons until the father himself was killed. Tom witnessed the atrocities he would come to do, the countless lives he would toss aside without a second glance, yet he bore witness to his own demise: He would rule Europe by the time he turned bicentennial, though he was naught but a shadow of his former youth. He witnessed himself die of old age, and by default, Time conquer him slowly until he was nothing more. He watched as his empire collapsed on itself after his death, his name forgotten in the history books until his legacy was nothing more than a sentence of the average primary school textbook. Tom Marvolo Riddle, understood what he was to come, and more chillingly than ever, what a powerful enemy Time was.

Tom Riddle would spend his next seven years at Hogwarts, building up his power and most importantly… furthering his search for immortality.

Tom Riddle would discover the key in his sixth year, fracture his soul and bind it to the Earth… He had discovered Immortality. Tom Riddle would be heard, humming a song nobody knew and yet remembered down the corridors, victorious in his conquest against time.

Tom Riddle would spend the next ten years amassing himself a radical army, mere tools to him but it would be the first step in fulfilling his destiny. He would go under the name of Voldemort, flight from death as it translates from french, a mocking word against Time, he would think to himself.

Tom Riddle would ask Albus Dumbledore, the famed and powerful headmaster of Hogwarts for a teaching position, his thoughts of conquest and power quelled when he discovered his love for teaching. Tom would be turned down, and he thought it was the greatest insult the world had thrown at him.

Voldemort would rise swiftly in power, razing towns with a simple gesture of his wand, his namesake beginning to become a household taboo.

Voldemort would duel with Dumbledore in 1979, his victory in causing Dumbledore to retreat would cement himself in the history books. Voldemort would begin to quickly expand his territory until in little less than five years Britain was his.

After twenty years of carnage Voldemort would have full and total control of Europe, his elite secret police force: The Black Knights, would furthermore ensure the population's docility.

Voldemort ruled Europe with an iron first, and yet under him the continent flourished… Magical and Mundane technology would intermix. Europe would become the first to completely convert to renewable energy, the price of oil dropped significantly and the people of the Empire would enjoy liberty and luxuries they never knew that could have. Seven years after establishing the Empire a new outbreak of technology was uncovered, non-magicals were now able to become magical themselves, Hybrids they would be called. They were the new flag bearers of mankind.

Two centuries would pass, and the world forgot the war existed. Voldemort would be placed on an altar as the greatest human, a God King in the eyes of the world.

The people would worship him, they would bring their firstborn to him as a sacrifice for his beautiful empire, they would slit the throats of their children as he bathed himself in their blood. The sacrifices would immensely boost his power, and in return Voldemort showered the world with his power, luxuries, and the freedom they gave him.

Voldemort didn't know.

He would never know until it was too late.

Magic at its foremost is power, and yet the power was meant to be balanced amongst all.

Voldemort stole Magic, and did not give back.

Magic would not condone that.

_**IN THE FUTURE**_

Voldemort awoke from his fitful slumber, the visions of a being shrouded in white and gold haunting him. He bathed himself, clothed himself, and stood out onto the balcony of his mansion. He was disturbed, the visions of himself dying over and over again to the white being, with no way to defeat it. He shook off the foreboding feeling and walked himself to the throne room. He walked over to the altar and took the baby from a mother's grasp. Procuring a knife he gently slit its throat and poured the pooling blood over into a goblet, doing so until the blood slowly stopped flowing. Raising the goblet he drank deeply and until he was almost finished he gave some to the mother. She eagerly took the cup with hands trembling in joy and drank just as deeply as him.

The room's doors exploded with a shower of white light, and he felt himself being thrown back into the altar. Everybody in the room burned to ashes, not even having enough time to cry out in shock or pain. The light faded until a lone figure stood before him. The figure was dressed in a white battle armor, a fusion of crusader armor and seventeenth century english musketman garb. The figure grabbed a sword from it's pommel and advanced on Voldemort. Voldemort awoke to his senses and began laying waste to the figure, he spelled out so many explosions the room was littered with dust and after blindly casting into the dust for a minute he stopped. Feeling victorious he brought his wand down and watched the dust fade, only for the figure to remain standing… unharmed as if nothing had touched it.

The figure spoke, their voice feminine, "Thomas Marvolo Riddle, for your crimes against magic you are hereby sentenced to eternal punishment against the wastelands of time." they began advancing towards Voldemort, drawing a gleaming golden sword from their scabbard. "Who are you?", Voldemort asked, fearfully.

"Forever, you could call me Time"

Voldemort's eyes widened as he backed up, against the throne room, he raised his wand again and unleashed a fire as hot as a supernova at the figure, it did nothing. Magic continued its advancement through the fire, spells, and explosions, as if it were merely a wind against a tree.

"You cannot destroy me, as I am forever."

Suddenly Magic lunged forwards, faster than Voldemort could react and grasped him by the neck. Magic raised up its left arm and Voldemort found himself forced to his knees. A sword could be seen gleaming above him, from the reflections of the obsidian stone in the throne room. He watched in horror as Magic summoned all of his seven soul shards, and crushed them each within their gauntlet. His horror turned into blind fear as the sword was raised above her head and he heard her speak,

"I'm Forever, and you're Nothing"

The sword flashed before his eyes and he felt his spinal cord severed in two, he was still alive, and watched in morbid fascination as his head was hoisted above and he saw his own body in two, lifeless on the marble floor.

Forever plunged the blade down into the ground and a tremor shook the ground, slowly, the world around him dissolved into ash, palace he build carried away by the wind, miles and miles of his legacy slowly faded out of existence.

"Humanity will rebuild, as they always do, and your name shoved into the corner of the index." Spoke Forever.

"For Time is Forever, and those who seek to cheat Time are Forever doomed."

FIN


End file.
